


Just Staying

by RavenGrey



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:51:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenGrey/pseuds/RavenGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock proposes and it's nothing all that special, but to John it means the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Staying

**Author's Note:**

> I was given the prompt of proposing and then pooted this out.

            It was like any other day, really. John had made a Tesco run to get more biscuits, toilet paper and tweezers, as Sherlock was using their pair to separate mold spores, and apple juice. Sherlock had spent the better part of an hour dallying with the aforementioned mold spores and grumbling at John, who grouched rather viciously back. He gotten a deep splinter and Sherlock was using the only tweezers in the house to pick at poisonous spores. The call for biscuits had been shouted at him as he’d departed, muffled through the protective mask that covered Sherlock’s mouth, and John had poked his head back in. “Excuse you?” John asked, somewhat peeved, “Oh, and by the way, could you maybe not cross breed mold spores in the kitchen mate? It’s kind of disgusting and people do, you know, on occasion, eat there.”  Sherlock leans away from his spores and pulls his mask down. “Biscuits John, and they are in their petri dishes, not hurting you, or your  _eating_ , in the slightest.” His tongue curls distastefully around the word ‘eating’, like it’s insulted him personally.

            “Right.” John grumps as Sherlock’s mouth and nose disappear back beneath the mask, the smug tilt of his lips just barely visible. “Be right back then.” Sherlock makes a disinterested sound and dutifully ignores John. After one ridiculously long wait he’s back in the flat and lobbing Sherlock’s biscuits at his head. Ignoring the objections receives, he sets his bag down and heads to the bathroom. “You got the wrong brand.” Sherlock calls back helpfully, setting the biscuits down sharply. John’s reply is a threatening “So help me God, Sherlock, one of these days.” that’s muffled by the bathroom door.

            John turns the shower on and undresses quickly, kicking his clothes into a pile and climbing in. Somewhere between the warmth of the water and the drag of a wash cloth over his skin, Johns decides to have a quick wank and goes about doing just that. It doesn’t take long for John to spill himself over his hand, thoughts of Sherlock’s damned mouth and his stupid eyes pushing him to the edge quickly. He stands under the soothing spray long enough to catch his breath and then rinses himself off quickly. He washes his hair with the same quickness and shuts off the water. After drying himself off he wraps a towel round his waist and exits the bathroom.

            He’s nearly made it to his room when Sherlock’s voice follows him tauntingly “That was awfully  _quick_.” John knows good and well that Sherlock isn’t referring to his shower and goes red in the face, holding his towel more tightly and increasing his pace. “Did you think of me?” Sherlock calls, voice gone deep. John slams his door with more force than necessary, flushed to the very tips of his ears. He dresses comfortably and then gathers himself up as he prepares to head back downstairs. He enters the kitchen and puts on the kettle. Sherlock is silently smug from where he’s seated and John can feel his eyes against his heated skin.

            While he busies himself with the kettle, Sherlock rises and steps away from his work, removing the mask and the protective gloves and approaching John from behind. His arms wrap around John from behind and he nips at the skin beneath John’s ear. “Did you?” Sherlock moans into John’s ear, well aware of what he’s doing to the man. John shudders in his arms and growls back “You know I did.” his skin positively burning. John’s hands rest against the counter in front of him and he grips it tightly when Sherlock’s tongue touches briefly to the sensitive skin. “Haven’t you got spores to tend to, Mr. Holmes?” Sherlock hums acknowledge and murmurs against John’s skin “Mmm, no, not at the moment; they’ll need to sit for at least an hour before I can do anything more with them.” John considers that and replies with some amusement “So you’re just going to play with me until your spores become fun again?” Sherlock grins widely and presses John more tightly against his chest. “Precisely.”

            John covers Sherlock’s hand with his own and grinds his hips backwards against Sherlock. He can hear Sherlock’s breath catch and repeats the gesture, enjoying the way that Sherlock’s hands move to his hips and tighten there. Sherlock mouths at the skin of his throat and slides his hands into the waistline of John’s trousers, teasing warm skin and causing all of John’s blood to rush downward. “What is it exactly that you want?” John asks, voice amused but breathy. “What gave me away?” Sherlock mutters crossly back. “You’re never this giving unless you want something in return.” Sherlock makes a disagreeing sound and John snorts loudly in response.

            Sherlock considers it for a moment and, after seconds of silence, admits quietly “You.” John, having been ready for some odd thing to do with sex, flounders in his confusion for a few seconds before he finds his voice. “Me?” He repeats, obviously confused. “I didn’t stutter, now did I?” Is Sherlock’s terse response and John is stumped by the sudden turn of events. “Well you’ve got me, now haven’t you?” John muses, the sudden seriousness from his lover causing his eyebrows to knit. Sherlock’s lips purse and John can hear the sharp breath that Sherlock takes, hands clinging to line of John’s hips almost possessively.

            “I want you,” Sherlock pauses, voice throaty and slightly unsure “forever.” He’s speaking in little more than a whisper by the end of and John’s left slack jawed. “Forever?...” It takes John a few seconds to puzzle out Sherlock’s roundabout statement but when he does he swallows hard around the sudden lump in his throat. “Sherlock, are you… are you proposing?” John’s heart is beating fast and his nails dig crescents into the skin of Sherlock’s knuckles. Sherlock briefly wonders if John can feel his heart beating against his back. He wishes for nothing more than for John to say yes, but were the answer to be no he’s taken precautions. Like proposing to John in a non-public place

            And not doing it face to face so he doesn't have to see the rejection that could potentially cross John’s face. Or the disgust. The more Sherlock thinks about it the more he regrets ever opening his mouth. “Because,” John stops to clear his throat, trying to clear the rasp from his voice and failing “because if you are, the answer is yes.” John’s heart is beating in his throat, an unexpected fear clouding his mind. He hopes and prays that he’s not misinterpreted Sherlock’s meaning and waits with a heavy heart for any response from Sherlock. He doesn’t have to wait long before Sherlock’s startled “Really?” cuts through the silence and pulls a laugh from John’s throat. “Really.” John affirms breathlessly, turning to look Sherlock in the eye. When he realizes that John hasn’t refused him he smiles, wide and brilliant, and kisses John enthusiastically on the mouth, picking him up off the ground and smothering him in an all-encompassing hug. “Brilliant! This is wonderful John!” John is stunned and shocked and it takes him a few seconds to return the hug. He sets John down and flits to the stairs, excitement and joy clear in every line of his body and calls down the stairs rather smugly “He’s said yes!” From where he’s standing he can hear Mrs. Hudson give a woop and glee and buries his face in his hand. He looks up through his fingers at Sherlock’s beaming face and laughingly pulls him in for another kiss, his face glowing with affection and love as he kisses him deeply. His hands fist in the material of Sherlock’s dressing gown and he presses himself against Sherlock, loving the way that Sherlock holds him like something precious.

            John throws his arms around Sherlock’s throat and clings for all he’s worth, unwilling to let go. He’s finally made it home and nothing will ever make John let him go.


End file.
